Cops and White Lace
by HandsAcrossTheSea
Summary: There are two things in life that Danny's figured out that make Steve McGarret a very, very happy camper. One is explosions and pretending to be a real life G.I. Joe. The second is getting his ass eaten until he's cross eyed. Danny really only encourages the latter of course as rim jobs are a hell of a lot healthier than getting blown to bits.


"Who the hell still reads the actual paper?" Danny can't keep the smile off his face at having caught Steve completely engrossed in the morning paper, setting their coffee down on Steve's desk and perching himself on one edge.

Steve doesn't look up, nor does he even startle at Danny's presence. "I do. It's relaxing and I like the way the paper feels." Steve turns the page and spares Danny a glance before he starts on the next column.

"And it's a waste that's not good for the environment – it's called the Internet, Steven, and everyone else is using it now." Danny takes a sip of his coffee – pure black – and lets the scald of it chase away the last vestiges of fogginess. It's barely seven thirty and Danny hopes to God that no one decides to blow the island to hell before nine. Why they're here this early Danny has yet to figure out. They were enjoying a perfectly nice morning together in bed when Steve's alarm had shrieked itself to life at six and Danny found himself wondering how in the world Steve can be so damn happy this early in the morning.

"I use the Internet." Steve's brow furrows and then unscrunches as he starts to catch up on the local sports page. He maintains a vetted interest in his alma mater's scores and even thought football season was done months ago, he still reads every word. "You just don't ever see me."

Danny sits his coffee down and leans forward to put his hands on his knees. "I practically live with you and honestly? I'm mystified as to how I haven't caught you yet. What, do you lead a secret double life as a hacker in the six hours of sleep we manage every night?"

Steve actually grins this time. "Yeah, I even do it with you wrapped around me like a damned koala."

Danny points an accusing finger, jaw working like he's trying to come up with a retort. It's not any fun to rib his boyfriend if he won't play back with him, and Danny finally settles for just poking him in the chest. "I swear, if you've been managing to cut out of the few uninterrupted minutes we have each day then I'd better be awake for it, you here?"

"And have you grouchier than normal the next day? Don't think so – it's that tough East Coast vibe that helps keep the place safe, and I'd hate to be the one who takes energy away from it." Steve folds his paper and sets it aside, finally reaching for the coffee that Danny so lovingly brought to him. It's like this every morning; they ride into work together, Danny goes down the street for the best damn java on the island and Steve enjoys his paper before Kono and Chin get in at eight thirty, all the while listening to Danny (lovingly, of course) tease him about not reading it online. To be fair they are working – just that everyone enjoys Hawaii mornings so much that shit doesn't really start to hit the fan until nine or so.

Danny watches Steve's face as he takes the first swallow, taking pleasure in how Steve closes his eyes for half a second as he holds it in his mouth before he lets it warm up the rest of him. It's aggravatingly sexual – Steve looks just as happy and blissed out with the first taste of coffee in the morning as he does when he's naked and laid out flat on his stomach and Danny's rubbing coconut-scent massage oil into his tense shoulders. There's a lot of association with perfectly innocent things and Steve's birthday suit – Danny didn't have that problem before he moved to Hawaii. Coconuts were something that his mom put on German chocolate cake and not something that made him pop half a boner at the first whiff.

"Are you going to molest that cup of coffee more or are you going to fill me, your ever faithful and _awesome_ partner, in on why the _fuck_ we're here at the ass crack of dawn and not sucking each other's dicks in the shower right now?" Danny makes sure he places a lot of emphasis on the last part of that phrase; morning blowies have become as much a part of their routine every day as going through doors and checking each other over for new bruises at night.

Steve quirks an eyebrow, _that's a cheap shot_ fixed unspoken on his face before he puts the paper cup back down and stands. "Because, you and I are going on a little adventure that maybe Chin and Kono don't need to know about. Well, not right _now_ anyway." He gestures towards the open door of his office towards the main room with an outstretched arm.

Danny regards him with mock suspicion, looking up at Steve and crossing his arms, making sure Steve gets a really good look at the veins that travel up from his wrists and wrap up and around his forearms like vines. "An adventure, huh?"

Steve nods. "Yeah."

"Just so you know," Steve begins as he walks out the door, "I haven't forgotten the last time you said 'we're going on an adventure' – so forgive me if I don't agree right away. Dragging me out for two weeks while we camped in the middle of volcano territory, yeah, that's a _really_ good time."

The brief burst of laughter at Danny's expense that lights Steve's features up makes Danny's stomach twist into a pleasant knot; full on mirth looks great on Steve, and he wishes he saw it more. "Yeah, but wasn't it fun seeing if we could time coming with the eruption of Kilauea?"

Danny doesn't even bother to turn around. "No – I get whiskey dick when there's a volcano threatening to blow a mile away."

"Don't seem to recall you having that problem." Steve's standing entirely too close as Danny brings up the screen in their table computer, breathing in deep and quick the scent of Steve's aftershave and ever-pervasive sweat. It's hot in June on the Big Island; everyone's always a little damp. It just happens to work in Steve's favor that Danny thinks it smells _incredibl_ e on him.

There is no one here at this hour save for them, and even then Danny has to work hard to not put his hands on Steve. It's not like they haven't been basically living together for the last year and Danny's spent no small out of time touching Steve – but doing it at work is still terrifying, because there are security cameras and he's sure Chin and Kono are aware of how to operate them to play back footage. A whole year that they've managed to sneak and hide and avoid getting caught. Are they aware that Danny stays with Steve now? Sure – but who wouldn't, considering Danny's lodgings aren't the greatest in the world.

But as far as they know, it's perfectly innocent and there's absolutely no funny business going on, no matter the hickies and bruises that dapple both of them like a Jackson Pollack – they've both gotten extremely good at hiding all sorts of marks. It's easy to play the ones that do go uncovered off as "hazards of the job" – which, to be fair, is mostly true.

Steve's hand resting on the small of his back brings Danny back to Five-O headquarters. "Danno?" Big puppy dog eyes and Steve's face hovering only six inches away from his don't exactly help with not leaning in to kiss him.

"Sorry – mind drifted." Danny has to cough once before he finds his voice again; by no means is it the quickest recovery he's ever made, either. Just that Steve has this effect on him where he forgets how to speak English sometimes. Fine - any language, to be honest.

Steve's gaze doesn't really lessen in intensity – but he does move back just a little, his hand still on Danny's back.

"No worries, Detective."

Yeah, Danny really wants to kiss him right now.

"We gonna make eyes at each other all day or are you gonna show me what this 'adventure' is all about?" Danny straightens just a little but Steve's hand doesn't move from his back for another ten seconds.

"You like ruining moments, don't you?"

"It's too early to have moments. And I'm cranky because I didn't get my blowjob."

Steve rolls his eyes, then turns to the screen. "So I've been building a case for a while now."

"For?" Danny leans over and watches as Steve goes a couple levels deeper than the normal intel screens; he's not seen these before, either because Steve has some sort of higher security clearance or he really wanted to keep this under wraps until the time was right.

"How familiar are you with the club scene in Honolulu?" Steve pauses before he opens a file marked "PMC."

Danny shrugs, his shoulders coming just an inch and making his back muscles bunch under his button down. "Not very, save for the couple ones we've cleared out. Not the clubbing sort of guy, you know? Too many bodies, noise, whatever."

Steve points skywards as he says "that's good – because this case is sure to put you off of them even more." Steve taps the file twice, and the screen's suddenly filled with images of what has to be the most lurid building exterior he's ever seen.

"What," Danny says, eyebrows raised, "the hell is that."

"The Prince Mark Club – Honolulu's most infamous gay dance club and bar."

Danny's eyebrows arch even higher. "If this is your way of asking me to go dancing and pretend to stuff dollar bills in your thong, we could just do that at home." Danny pauses, turning over in his mind the image of Steve snaking his hips to some ridiculous, bass-heavy music and shoving his crotch in Danny's face. "Say, that's not a terrible idea actually."

"Getting off track, Danno." The smile in his voice gives him away and Danny leans a little further into Steve's space.

"Your fault."

Steve pushes on, reaching over and dragging a mugshot down to front and center. "This – is Max Brodsky."

Danny can't help the laugh that escapes him, because that is seriously the porniest name he's ever heard. "Sounds like he should be shooting skin flicks." Danny can't help but notice the guy, even though he's at this point pushing fifty, looks fantastic for his age – _disturbingly_ good.

Shame does nothing to stop the rush of blood to the southern parts of his body.

"Right again – he used to be a porn star. And Max Brodsky is just his screen alias – his real name's Eugene Mathers, and he's been arrested more than once." Three more mugshots, all of which are older than the first one, file down in quick succession. Danny has to bite his tongue because seriously, the guy looks even better the younger he gets, all smoldering green eyes and dirty blonde hair, a smatter of freckles showing up on his first arrest report. Danny can see it really easily; the guy's made for smutty theatre. His crimes range from petty theft to solicitation and all it does is just add to his allure.

"And you've been stalking him… why?" Danny conjures up an image of Grandma Williams in a lacey slip to quell his arousal and only manages to succeed halfway. Embarrassment colors his cheeks because he's already planning to do more "research" on his own. So what if it involves hunkering down in the guest bedroom while Steve goes for his night run and beating his dick to this guy.

"Because – he's wanted for participation in a sex slave ring. Trouble is we've not been able to fully convict him or find solid proof until now." Danny's attention shifts to a list of financial records and witness statements, along with an image of a line up of similarly attractive young men, some almost completely naked, all of them with exotic, Eastern European sounding names and a look of desperation burning in their eyes.

Make that smoldering, "come into my bed and let me make you feel absolutely filthy and wonderful at the same time" eyes.

Danny's baser parts stir at the sight anyway and he has to shift his weight so he's not given away; seriously, blowjobs in the shower would have solved this issue. "And why are we the ones going after it? Isn't that more under the FBI's jurisdiction?"

Steve gives him his best what can you do look. "They were handling it, until they had bigger fish to fry. I was just a consultant because I knew the… area."

"So you've been to this club before?" Danny can't help but smile and feel just a little jealous at the same time; the thought of one of these bare slips of a boy grinding all up on Steve squeezes him in too many different ways to count.

"Don't look at me like that – when I was younger, there weren't a lot of place to meet guys." Steve blushes and closes the files out, making sure that the records show they weren't accessed.

"Leaving that aside for now," Danny says, leaning against the table, "why don't Chin and Kono know about this?"

"Uh… just not something I want them being in on."

"And you want me in on it."

"Well, if I'm going to go busting into a gay club to arrest the owner then who better to do it with than my boyfriend?" Steve's trying to hide a smile when he reaches the word "boyfriend."

The guy's adorable some days, really he is. Danny smiles back, looking up at Steve. "And you don't trust yourself to keep your hands off the goods if I'm not there to watch?"

"You really think my dick would get me in over my head?"

"No – I'm just wondering as to why you've just now let me know that this festering island is a way station for Romanian jailbait."

"Because – I trust you to help me with this and keep it quiet until it becomes public information." Steve leans against the table and takes Danny's hands in his, leading him to stand between his legs. "We are all allowed a certain amount of discretion if we want to take on personal cases."

"And the discretion in this case being you don't want folks to know that Steve McGarrett, Navy SEAL and living proof of cavemen existing, used to hit up the local sausage club for a good time?" There isn't much fight in Danny's words; truthfully he's amused, getting to look into Steve's past a little more. Their standing "need to know" clause has gotten a lot of work this morning and Danny's having fun exercising.

"I'm not ashamed of my sexuality," Steve frowns. "just… I'm not proud of some of the things I did when I was younger."

"So if any vengeful ex-boyfriends suddenly turn up-"

"You have full clearance and permission to remove them with any force you deem necessary." Steve's words are so assured that he may as well have added on _you're the only one, and will remain the only one._

"Hey, easy there Commander – I trust you." Danny squeezes Steve's hands back and for a moment there's not the slightest touch flint in his gaze, just dark eyes that leave Danny feeling far too weak-kneed for this time of morning.

He can tell Steve still needs to say it anyway, reassure and affirm that no, he's not sleeping around and doesn't plan to do so – but he doesn't. Danny knows, because for the last three hundred and ninety days (yes Danny counts, sue him) Steve's been next to him every morning. Well, save for the couple times they couldn't be in the same bed due to injuries but they were at least in the same house – but it's a level of commitment that Danny's never had much reason to doubt.

Steve puts his hands on Danny's hips and pulls him in a little closer, Danny suddenly feeling like there's not enough oxygen in the room because Steve gets super fucking gooey when he feels like he's done something wrong and it works like a charm every time – even though Danny has literally no reason to accuse him of anything.

Their foreheads touch, and Danny feels like they're approaching some weird next level in their relationship sort of thing, like Steve revealing the more sordid bits of his past is what qualifies for a deeper emotional connection; Danny's not the sort of guy who requires that sort of information, really. He knows exactly what Steve's o-face looks like and that's proof enough.

"What are we doing again?" Danny touches Steve's cheeks, finding it hard to raise any concern over whether or not Steve can feel his semi against his leg.

Steve shrugs, a goofy grin making those pearly whites flash so brightly that Danny sees gums. "You know, I don't have any idea."

"I have a suggestion."

"I swear to God, if you say blowjobs…"

"What if I call it fellatio?" Danny grins back just as wide and the annoyed huff he gets from Steve feels a lot more normal than wherever it was they were headed a moment ago.

"Sorry babe, but we're on the clock." Steve does spare him a peck on the lips and lets him go, leaving Danny to stew in his own sexual frustration – and of course Steve doesn't even look flustered, because of course he doesn't. It's infuriating, to wind Danny up like that and then not even break a sweat himself.

Danny starts to head back to his office, intent on finishing his coffee – Steve can come and get his if he pleases.

"Since you're obviously so focused on work – when exactly is it that we're supposed to go and bust this guy?"

"Just as soon as I can gather up a couple more friends from HPD that won't say anything unless they have to."

"Again, we could just use Chin and Kono."

"And listen to the ribbing for the next decade?"

Danny laughs as he sits back down in his chair, taking a sip of his now lukewarm coffee. "I like how you imply we'll actually be around for the next decade. I honestly thought I'd be gone within a month's time after setting foot on this damned island."

"Why, is the crime tougher out here in paradise?" Steve leans against the doorjamb, his hands stuffed into the pocket of his khaki cargo pants and his dark blue overshirt fallen open just enough to the right side that Danny can see the sliver of skin where his black tank top looks like it's barely hanging on. That creeping arousal he felt earlier comes back, and he seriously considers drawing the blinds to his door while he rubs out a quick one.

"No – the heat's bad and the locals even worse. You of course winning the grand prize."

"For what, the heat or the locals?"

"Both, my friend." Danny toasts him with his coffee cup and drinks half of it; he paid near extortion money for it, he's going to consume it cold or not.

"Give it another year Danno, and you'll be one of us yet." Steve blows him a kiss and walks out, coffee forgotten.

Danny drinks his too, consolation for not getting head in the form of sweet, dear caffeine.

There's plenty of shit to clean up while they wait, of course.

Not ten minutes after Chin and Kono get in (and looking far too happy about life, if their surf-damp locks and immediate engagement with Steve about waves and all sorts of beachy crap are anything to go by) they get a big ping on the radar from one of their contacts inside HPD about heroin smugglers and they're off, guns blazing and siren blaring.

It's times like this that Danny really wishes he'd made the cut for the local minor league team and be on his way to the top of the short stop list.

Steve's hollering instructions into his phone and CB at the same time, letting Danny speed them along. He's looking just the right amount of furious and hell if that doesn't make it hard to concentrate; Danny totally doesn't have a thing for Steve when he's locked and loaded, nope not at all.

Okay – maybe a _little._

Pearl Harbor flashes by, Danny making a beeline down the coast road at ninety miles an hour when Steve finally turns to him and grins.

"What?"

Danny's concentrating on keeping the Camaro on the road too hard to try and be courteous at the moment.

"Nothing."

"No – what?" Danny nearly puts the car on two wheels as they barrel towards the waterfront, blowing past the security guard in a silvery blur of metal and rubber.

"You're driving like me."

Danny snorts a laugh. "No – I'm driving like anyone should in this situation."

"So like me."

"Hey – I've not snapped your neck three times in the course of getting here and not even come close to hitting anything."

"I've not actually hit anything!"

"Yet!"

Danny skids to a stop and Steve's halfway out the door before they've even stopped sliding.

"This discussion isn't over!" His words fall on deaf ears, seeing Steve go plunging into a warehouse that has "probable cause" written across in the form of its dilapidated, going to fall down at any moment appearance. Danny's not exactly the praying type but he does say a quick Hail Mary, just in case.

Of course it's dark inside in spite of the morning sun, and Danny has to blink three times to adjust. He listens for the sound of anyone else, hearing nothing but the sound of his own footsteps. Naturally they echo really fucking loudly, an auditory bull's eye for anyone who's even half listening. He's read the intel on these guys; they have not a single compulsion over shooting a cop. Probably why no one's really tried to hit them before now, given that they're armed like the United States Marine Corp.

Maybe he should tell Steve that just so that he can watch his hackles raise about the Navy being better, faster, and stronger.

He's looking for undesirables when a massive hand clamps around his mouth and he's being hauled backwards, whomever's doing the dragging dodging his efforts to break the grip. Half a second later he's spun around to find himself face to face with Steve.

"The hell, McGarrett?" Danny keeps his voice below a whisper and Steve continues to look pleased with himself.

"I found them – but I need you to help."

"No, I'm just here for my health."

Steve gestures for him to follow. "Chin and Kono are already in position. It's a fair fight, four against twelve."

"We really need to discuss your definition of 'fair fight'."

"It's a date, babe."

It's a good thing Steve's ass is nice enough to follow into battle without _that_ much thought.

Considering the odds stacked against them, they come out pretty well.

Chin ends up with a concussion from one of the smugglers wanging him in the head with a pipe and Steve manages to go through a shipping crate full of glass – none of which slices of anything important off but his forearm's full of "shatterproof" glass and now they're at the hospital, Danny's ankle wrapped tightly where he rolled it leaping off of a container.

The fact that Steve's rubbing off this much on him should be terrifying but now it just feels normal.

They've been stashed in an empty room, sitting on opposite beds and waiting for the nurse to come back to check them out. Steve's retying the bandaging on his left forearm ( _they didn't do it right, Danno_ ) and constantly looking at Danny, either because he's afraid Danny sprained more than just an ankle or because he wants something else.

Danny finds it troubling to sit up straight, because of course he got into a fist fight too and his body's one giant bruise; the guy had a penchant for body blows and hell if he didn't let Danny know it.

Trying not to wince and make Steve worry is only half the fun.

"Danno, you sure you can walk?" Steve's finished tying his bandage and is not rubbing the side of his head, his face full of tiny cuts they make him look like he stuck his head in a box of angry cats.

"Trust me – a torn ACL was way worse than this." Danny rubs his ankle anyway, the ends of his toes sticking out of the bandaging so little that he can't even wiggle them to make sure they're all still attached as they should be. "And I actually came out of this one better than you."

"It's not a competition," Steve says. He gets up and hobbles over to Danny's bed, easing himself down next to his partner. "I don't ever _intend_ to get hurt – it just happens."

"You say that now, but next week you'll have a broken leg and I'll be the one who has to baby sit you." Danny decides that rubbing himself through the bandaging isn't going to do jack shit and he puts his leg back down, sighing because it's gonna be a bitch to get around for the next few days.

"Like you wouldn't enjoy having me down and out to have your wicked way with." Steve spares a glance over his shoulder to check for anyone they know and leans in to nuzzle Danny's neck.

"Seriously? Now you want to be cute?" Danny grumbles because he can, and they've been doing this long enough now that Steve knows full well that he doesn't actually mean it.

Steve gets his right arm around him and kisses Danny behind the ear; it's only the painkillers numbing him that keeps him from melting like a popsicle. "Nothing like a near-death experience to get the blood pumping."

Danny tilts his head so that Steve can mouth his stubbly way up to the joint of his jaw and skull. "To be fair Steven – that wasn't nearly as near death as it's been in the past."

"Worked for me," he says, taking Danny's left hand and putting it on his knee. Danny slides in towards his thigh, finally turning his head for a kiss.

"I'll be the judge of that." Danny racks it up to having the adrenaline burned out of him and the Vicodin in his system that causes him to moan so loudly as Steve's tongue goes right for his, his eyes sliding closed as they press the kiss further. Danny reaches up and grabs a handful of Steve's tank top, yanking him in that much closer. Steve hums, mouth opening wider as he gets his right hand on the back of Danny's head.

It's not a blowjob but for now, Danny will accept making out as a fine substitution.

The sound of the door opening has them breaking apart like two teenagers getting caught behind the gym and for an instant before they pull away, Danny sees the saliva connecting their lips. It takes all of his medicine-addled willpower to not just dive right back in, especially when Steve makes eyes at him as he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.

It's the same gesture he uses when he's been sucking Danny's cock in the Camaro between jobs.

"Mr. Williams, Mr. McGarrett?" The same nurse from earlier – Hilda is her name, pleasantly plump and with dark flowing red hair – comes in and inspects them both one more time, getting a knowing look in her eyes. "Your discharge forms are ready." She hands them separate clipboards, Steve signing off first and then handing the pen to Danny, fingers brushing in the middle.

"Say, Hilda – " Danny begins, "do you have any medicine to cure being a chronic pain in the ass?"

"Why, are you self-medicating? Not safe there, Danno." Steve winks at Hilda and hands her back the clipboard before he pulls himself to his feet, the Vicodin making him woozy.

Danny gives Hilda a long suffering sigh. "He thinks he's funny, but he's really not. He shoots things for a laugh, likes to keep the neighbors up playing D-Day in the back yard."

Steve mumbles something about playing with Danny's d but Hilda doesn't seem to catch it – which is fine with Danny.

"Your friends are already waiting for you down front – would you like a wheelchair, Mr. Williams?"

Danny picks up the crutches he'd been provided with earlier and brandishes them like swords. "Trust me – I'm and old pro on these things."

"Well, _old_ anyway," Steve provides.

Danny makes his best mock serious face and tells Steve straight up "unless you just happen to want to depart with your…" Danny circles the end of the crutch in the air in front of Steve's body, trying to come up with something threatening.

Steve just laughs and lets Danny head for the door first.

"Yeah, that's what I thought." Danny clicks along, moving surprisingly quick for someone who looks like they just did three rounds with Jack Dempsey.

Hilda just shakes her head, watching their retreating backs.

"Love's beautiful, isn't it?" she says to no one in particular.

Some thoughtful policeman – probably one of Steve's friends on the force – had brought the Camaro home ahead of them, Kono having driven Danny and Steve back to the McGarrett home. She of course didn't even get a scratch on her, looking no worse for wear then sweat-streaked locks and the flush of victory turning her cheeks red.

Or at least they'd see that if they weren't both passed out in the backseat.

Kono tries to wake them up, calling their names, shaking them – it doesn't work, the energy taken right out of them. It's barely one o'clock and already they're useless. Not surprising though – a firefight and then getting shot full of medicine doesn't exactly leave you up and ready to go save an island.

"Guys, come on," she says. She tries angrily staring at them in the rear-view mirror, telepathy not at all on her side that day.

Fine – she can be drastic.

Kono gets out and goes to Steve's side of the car, opening the door and right before he face plants into the cement he's awake, holding onto Kono for dear life.

"Now I know what to do the next time I want your attention."

Steve makes a magnificent frowny-face at her, then straightens himself up to swing out of the backseat. Not an easy task, but he manages it gracefully enough.

"Gee, thanks." He notices that he's home, looking confused for a moment. "This isn't headquarters."

"Brilliant work, Commander – but since Chin's down and out for a couple days and the two of you look worse for wear, well… maybe an afternoon off wouldn't kill us."

Steve points at her, shaking his finger. "Good point. Want to help me get Sleeping Beauty inside?"

"That's Detective Sleeping Beauty, to you." Danny's already hopping to the trunk, intent on getting his crutches. "I saw you try to murder Steve, I can get myself out just fine."

Kono opens the trunk with the remote and it nearly smacks Danny square in the face, leaving him to windmill for a moment before he clings to the open door jamb of the car for support.

Steve and Kono help by laughing the whole time, of course.

"Remind me," Danny glares as he gets his crutches under him, "to not send her any birthday presents or anything helpful ever." He starts for the front door, Steve following a moment later after bidding Kono goodbye. Danny has to hand it to Steve – he does at least wait to start groping until Kono's car is out of sight.

Steve's hand is resting on the swell of his ass, rubbing Danny like he's the lucky Buddha. "Hi," he says, smiling as he presses a kiss to Danny's temple.

"Something you want, Commander?" Danny finally gets the door open and to his credit, Steve doesn't try to help him in – but he does keep his hand on Danny's butt.

"Yeah." Steve, for having an arm that was cut to pieces, is surprisingly handsy, taking Danny's crutches from him and leaning them against the wall.

"And what would that be?" Danny's not even going to make a fuss right now, especially since Steve's mouth is on his jaw and the same hands that are holding him up are working these positively magic circles into his back.

"You," he replies between kisses, "inside me." Steve kisses Danny on the mouth, making it good and slow. Danny doesn't open up right away, just lets Steve's lips linger on his before they move any faster. They've got plenty of time right now to take it easy, and that's exactly what's going to happen.

Even if it is sort of mandatory, courtesy of them both being just a touch loopy from the drugs.

Danny hums an okay, his eyes closed as he pushes his tongue into Steve's mouth. Steve's so fucking easy to please; give him tongue in the right places and he's absolute putty, and Danny has plenty of it to offer. His ankle doesn't allow him to move terribly quickly but Steve navigates them with practiced ease towards the stairs, letting Danny lean against him as they ascend.

The truth is that Danny loves it when they're like this, tired and achey and the only thing that matters is getting each other naked. It doesn't mean the sex will be good, just that it seems to mean more when the rest of the world's dropped away for a while. Danny looks forward to it at the end of the day, going home with and to Steve, no one banging on their door or begging their attention. That and Steve's beautifully easy to live with; they know how to work around and with each other, grouse good-naturedly, and then fall asleep wrapped up together. Danny's not had that before, not really – Rachel could be a monster – but Steve?

Steve's about as ideal of a partner as Danny could ask for.

"Want to shower first?" Steve's got them in the bedroom now, looking down at Danny with a soft gaze as he gets his tie unlooped from his collar. He drops it to the floor and explores the new skin revealed by Danny's now open top button with his mouth and tongue.

"Don't think that's helping, babe." Danny gets his hands on Steve's overshirt and pushes it down his arms, running his fingers appreciatively over his biceps on the way back up. If someone asked Danny if he had a gun fetish, the "no" he'd give them would only be partially true; Steve's arms are the exception, tattoos and veins making Danny's eyes wonder up and down one, across his broad chest, and then to the other. It's distracting and wonderful all at the same time.

Steve doesn't move, just keeps on with unbuttoning with Danny's shirt as he kisses his neck. "You smell terrible."

"Gee, way to buck a guy up." Danny did notice though; sweating and running and all that business doesn't exactly leave one fragrant, and it's been a while since his aftershave wore off.

"C'mon." Steve takes Danny by the hand and leads him to the bathroom, ridiculously huge with both a separate shower and Jacuzzi. Since Danny can't exactly stand with much ease, Steve fires up the Jacuzzi, letting it fill as he finished undressing Danny.

"I may have to get hurt more often, if this is the sort of treatment I'm gonna receive." Danny tries to get Steve's tank off while his shirt's untucked but Steve bats his hands away.

"Consider it a one-time thing – next time, you fill the tub up yourself." Steve drops Danny's shirt to the floor and goes for his undershirt, gone in a second to leave Danny shirtless. He runs his fingers across Danny's chest, sliding them through his chest hair, making a face like he's halfway between deciding if Danny is his next meal or something far less gruesome.

"Hey, no fair!" Danny manages to balance and grab a handful of shirt, clinging to Steve while he gets his other hand under the hem and lifts. Steve's gracious enough to lift his arms and off it goes, tossed to the floor and finally, finally Steve's naked chest is pressed against his. Danny puts his hands on the wide spread of Steve's pectoral muscles, all ten fingers warm against Steve's skin as they close the gap.

"Better?" Steve nips at Danny's chin and smiles, swaying a little from giddiness and painkillers.

"Much." Danny keeps his right arm around Steve as he uses his left to cup the back of Steve's head in his palm and another two minutes pass before they even realize it, entirely caught up in each other. For a weekday afternoon, this is about as perfect as Danny can imagine, even if it wasn't voluntary.

"Think the tub's full babe," Steve murmurs. He's already starting to get Danny's pants off, Danny being of absolutely no help as he tries to do the same to Steve.

"Still have your boots on, Commander." Danny points at the floor, Steve's pants well on their way to being pooled around his ankles. Steve's in black boxer-briefs today, the outline of his cock hanging heavy right down front. Danny chalks him not being hard either up to willpower or the magic that is Vicodin – or maybe he's just waiting for Steve to really touch him.

Steve reaches down and unlaces his boots, slow going as he favors his arm against his side. Danny does help pull them off along with his socks, tossing them in the general direction of the door and leaving Steve in just his underwear. Sure it kind of hurts to be bent over right now but he mouths at the head of Steve's dick through his underwear anyway, enjoying the sharp intake of breath and the quiet "shit, _Danno_ " that Steve utters.

No need to give all of himself away yet.

"How about we get in the tub so we can get this show on the road, huh?" Danny shimmies out of his own pants, deciding to hell with it and he's naked first, giving his dick a couple tugs before he bends down to disentangle himself. He makes sure Steve's watching as he pulls his foreskin all the way back, not to mention his frenulum piercing where it glints in the sun coming through the window. Steve cups himself through his underwear, watching Danny and waiting to see what he'll do next.

Danny's unwrapping his ankle bandaging as he indicates towards the tub. "I'm gonna need your help getting in."

"Say no more." Steve's in position, hooking his thumbs in the waistband of his Saxx and letting them slide of their own accord down his legs. Danny watches their trajectory, momentarily forgetting what exactly it was he was doing as he follows back up Steve's strong legs, fixating for a moment on Steve's hardening dick.

"Thought I'd lost my touch there for a second," Danny says, his foot free. Steve holds out his hand and Danny takes it letting himself be helped over the side of the tub and into the water. Steve's following a second later, sliding in next to and then behind him.

"Nah babe – just needed a little encouragement." Steve rubs Danny's chest, glad to have his arms full of tension-tight but in one piece detective.

"Want a little more?" Danny's already reaching behind himself to catch the back of Steve's head and draw him in. Steve's mouth is open before Danny even reaches him, tongues licking against each other before their lips touch. It's utterly and beautifully pornographic but it's what makes them want each other even more; Danny likes to taste and Steve likes to be tasted.

Steve snakes his right hand down in the water and squeezes Danny's cock, the pad of his thumb rubbing against his piercing. Danny groans, shuddering pleasantly. He'd first gotten the piercing back in college and went for years without afterwards until six months ago when one night he'd told Steve about it and the way his face had lit up, well… he couldn't resist having it redone.

"You're gonna get your bandage wet" Danny warns, arching his hips up into Steve's hand. Steve makes a loose fist for him, the water sloshing as he moves. Steve raises his left arm and pulls the loose end with his teeth and it falls away, leaving flesh that's just recently stopped bleeding.

"There – now it can't get wet." He reaches past Danny and cuts on the jets, the strong currents of water easing the ache in Danny's bones a little further. Steve cradles him again, hand gone from his dick as he reaches for the soap.

"Are we technically still on the clock?" Danny tilts his head forward as Steve's fingers scrub his upper back and shoulders, not able to find any shame at the involuntary groan that comes out.

"Probably – but I'm the leader and I think we can leave that up to my uh, discretion." Steve starts to wash his front, taking his time with Danny's chest and abs.

Danny can't find any reason to complain about it, either.

"If your discretion leads to more of this, then please, exercise your judgment all you want."

"You're just happy you're getting your dick wet."

"And you aren't?"

Steve smiles and presses a kiss into Danny's neck

"Touche."

Granted, it takes a while before they get out of the tub; Danny blames Steve, naturally, because if he wasn't there they could wash up a lot faster. Either painkillers make Steve super touchy or he's just… well, being Steve. There's a lot of groping that goes on between them, both platonic and non.

"Unless you want to witness unpleasant things," Steve says as he finishes washing Danny's hair, "I'd suggest leaving."

"You didn't… this morning?" Danny closes his eyes as Steve cups his hands and dumps water over his head, watching the suds run down the curve of Danny's neck.

"We were up early, remember?"

"Oh, I didn't forget. Although – " Danny turns around as well as he can in the confined space – "if you don't want to go all the way, I'm okay with leaving it til later."

Steve gives a firm shake of his head, kissing Danny while he does. "No, I want the full treatment. Not often we get to do this during daylight hours, you know?"

It is sweet, in a way.

Danny sighs, deciding that the pleasant ache of arousal in his lower body is indeed something he can deal with for a little while longer – and Steve's ass has been _spectacularly_ tight lately. "Just don't be long, babe." He gives Steve one more smoldering kiss before he gets out of the tub, wrapping a towel around himself as he hobbles back out into the bedroom.

Steve's going to be at least twenty minutes so Danny checks his phone for any updates, police or otherwise. Chin's doing fine, just very woozy and suddenly speaking nothing but Chinese (Kono sent a video and it's kind of funny to see quiet, stoic chin zoned out on Vicodin.) There are a couple messages from home – _Mom's doing great after her gall bladder surgery, keep in touch Danny_ , _love Dad -_ Danny feels a little guilty about that one but promises that his next vacation WILL be spent in New Jersey.

He lays down on the bed and rubs his ankle, absently aware of the fact that he's still wet. Not that it matters as they're going to have to change the sheets anyway if things get as messy as they normally do. Hell if it doesn't make Danny smile to himself, palming his dick through the towel. It's like this every time he has sex with Steve, really – warm, complete, and maybe a touch competitive. Okay, _a lot_ competitive but it wouldn't be nearly as fun if it wasn't. Rachel never seemed to enjoy it that much, just another way to take out their frustration on each other. The scratches on his back afterwards were more out of retribution than genuine physical pleasure, anyway. Steve puts them there because he's a loud, whorey bottom who always comes hardest when Danny's trying to plow him into the mattress.

And out of love, of course.

Danny's still scrolling through his messages when Steve finally comes out of the bathroom, a solid, tanned wall of damp muscle that Danny takes a full thirty seconds to stare at before either of them even say anything. He can see now the bruises and scrapes that cover Steve's torso, each one a little angrier than the last; Steve moves like they aren't bothering him in the least.

"Got something interesting there?" Steve nods towards Danny's hand, clutching his phone like it contains the secrets of the universe.

"Nah – just checking in." Danny sits up a little as Steve approaches, half-hard cock swinging from side to side with each step. It's mesmerizing, maddening; a sight that Danny never tires of seeing.

"Anything new?" Steve has to ask, just in case. He approaches Danny on all fours once he gets to the mattress, a smile on his face as he brushes noses with him.

"Not a thing."

"Good." Steve plucks the phone from his hand and sets it aside, replacing it with his fingers and right away Danny's got his legs spread so that Steve can settle between them, feeling the memory-foam mattress dip slightly beneath him. Not the firmest ride in the world but hell if it's not comfortable to pass out on afterwards.

Danny doesn't get the chance to say anything back; Steve's kissing him again, and this time it's what he'd call smoldering, slowly opening his mouth to let Danny in. Danny complies, rolling them gently so that now he's on top and can reach for Steve's hands. It's uncanny how they fit together, considering that Steve's hands are a lot bigger than his but they fit together near perfectly. Danny won't go so far as to think "made for each other" but…

It's a heartwarming thought anyway.

Steve moans happily as he spreads his legs a little further and Danny bears his weight down on him, rutting his cock against Steve's hip when he feels Steve's legs go around his back. Danny feels cocooned like this, between Steve's palms right against his and those magnificent, _strong_ legs keeping him in place. Steve's not a dominant sort of guy in bed – to Danny's surprise – he just knows what he wants.

"How d'you want it, babe?" Danny asks against Steve's lips, their hands having moved so that Steve can run his fingers through Danny's hair. Danny loves that, the way Steve's equal parts tender and firm.

Steve chuffs a laugh, and Danny can feel his toes wiggle against his thighs where they're all tangled up together. "Consider we both look like hell, maybe we should take it easy. I mean, we've got the time, right?" Steve kisses Danny like time's going to be put on hold just for them.

"In that case – roll over, Commander." Danny pats Steve's rump, his expression playful. Steve kisses him one more time for good measure before he rolls over with a grunt, grabbing a pillow to shove under his hips before he's completely settled. He wiggles his butt, looking back at Danny with far too much eagerness.

There are two things in life that Danny's figured out that make Steve McGarret a very, _very_ happy camper. One is explosions and pretending to be a real life G.I. Joe. The second is getting his ass eaten until he's cross eyed. Danny really only encourages the latter of course as rim jobs are a hell of a lot healthier than getting blown to bits.

Danny works his way down Steve's spine, kissing each vertebrae like it's a precious jewel. Steve makes a game try at keeping himself quiet but Danny's dragging his stubbly jaw along, raising goosebumps and little flashes of lightning across his skin. Each kiss makes Steve moan, and the closer that Danny gets to his ass the louder he gets as well.

"Noisy for me today, huh?" Danny's right at the small of his back, sucking a slight mark into each dimple there.

"You haven't heard anything yet, baby." Steve winks at him, getting his left hand in Danny's hair and scritching the back of his head – and so that he has something to hold on to once Danny's tongue starts to work its magic.

"Well, you might have to be extra loud. The tinnitus that _you've_ caused is kind of worse than usual today." Danny slides his fingers down the cleft of Steve's ass, beautifully hairy and smelling like Dove. He really did go all out in making himself squeaky clean for Danny.

" _I_ didn't cause anything – repeated auditory damage causes tinnitus."

"And who goes chasing after explosions first? Not me Steven."

Right as Steve's about to come back with a reply Danny lets himself in, licking a broad, slow stripe across Steve's hole. Steve's words come out in a spectacular garble, and Danny prides himself on shutting Steve down so efficiently. Granted anyone with a tongue up their ass is likely to have the same reaction but Steve just melts so easily.

Now it's up to Danny to ruin him even further and then put him back together.

It kind of hurts where Steve's holding on to him so tightly, bending Danny's neck as he tries to pull him into his body. Danny adjusts as best he can, rubbing himself against the mattress because this turns him on just as much as it does his partner; Danny's a giver in bed, always has been. Steve just happens to be an incredibly grateful receiver.

Danny makes sure he's loud about eating Steve out, smiling every time his hips buck against the bed and before long Steve's got his ass in the air, trying to push back against Danny's face. Danny moves with him, lapping and licking so that the spit starts to run off the weighty hang of Steve's balls and onto the mattress. Danny gets his left hand around Steve's thigh and jerks him off while he spells out "Danny Williams-McGarrett" (just because he fucking can) with his tongue, relishing the way Steve shudders every time Danny's tough palm and fingers rub over the head of his cock.

"Wanna taste," Steve slurs as he grabs Danny's cock-filled hand. He brings Danny's fingers to his lips and licks them clean of precome, fellating them until Danny's moaning into his ass; each swipe and twirl of Steve's tongue makes Danny crumble a little more, his hands and fingers for whatever reason a huge erogenous zone that Steve explores and exploits shamelessly.

Danny loses his pattern, thrown off by Steve's infuriating mouth. He tries to pick it back up, intent on spelling more sweet nothings across Steve's skin but it's a hopeless cause; besides, with the way Steve's fellating his fingers they need to get this show on the road anyway. Danny hates to leave but he also wants to kiss Steve some more.

Steve lets Danny's fingers go, craning his neck up to kiss him as he turns back over. He stretches a leg up and gets an ankle behind Danny's neck, bringing him down to body level. Danny hums, sliding his spit-damp fingers over Steve's hole. Steve spreads his legs open even wider, rubbing himself against Danny.

"Someone's jonesing for it today," Danny murmurs. He's got his other hand linked with Steve's next to his head.

"Can you blame me?"

"No, I blame the fact that firefights turn you on." Danny reaches under his pillow, half-remembering stashing the lube there yesterday morning.

"One day Danno," Steve says, "we're going to bring a gun into bed and you're going to hold it next to my dick and see if I get hard. Not because I have a gun kink, but because I like to prove you wrong."

"Spite isn't sexy, babe." Danny smiles anyway, finally tracking down the errant bottle of Astroglide and coating his fingers with it. Steve's eyes don't leave his hands, halfway entranced with watching the long, sticky strings of lube as they drip from the cap to Danny's palm. "But it works for you."

"Being spiteful?"

"Something like that." Danny kisses Steve, tongue and all, as he coats Steve's hole with lube. He kind of loves how his boyfriend gets that much more excited about it, holding his legs open so that Danny can work by hooking his hands behind his knees. They've got this down to a fine science, the art of quick but pleasurable prepping. Danny gets in two fingers, then three, opening Steve up while seeing if he can indeed touch Steve's tonsils with his tongue.

He's thrown off when Steve nearly bites his tongue in half, Danny bumping his prostate just so that it makes his brain short circuit.

"Hey, easy there tiger – if you want to continue to enjoy this tongue I'm gonna need you to not eat it." Danny actually rubs his tongue, frowning at Steve – who has absolutely no excuse for himself, his eyes closed and his toes curled in on themselves from having Danny's fingers still knuckle deep in his ass.

Danny shakes his head, because Steve truly is hopeless – but he's Danny's hopeless, and that does make it some level of okay. He leans down and kisses Steve, making him open his eyes.

"Want me to use the cock ring?" Danny gently rocks his fingers, trying not to look to turned on by how easily his fingers are sliding in and out of Steve's hole.

Steve grins, licking Danny's bottom lip. "Do I have to answer that question?"

"What are you, a lawyer?"

"No, I'm a super cop."

 _Super cop._

Danny wasn't sure before but now he's one hundred percent confident – Steve's absolutely full of shit.

"I'm using the cock ring." Danny starts to move to grab it but Steve puts him in a tight embrace, kissing Danny so deeply and suddenly that it makes Danny's vision go six different sorts of fuzzy and the colors behind his eyelids dazzle his mind's eye.

By the time he manages to squirm away, the lube's starting to dry and Danny has to apply more. "You're a distraction and a hazard to yourself. Really I don't know how you survived this long without me."

"Which is why I keep you around here." Steve is so sincere that Danny has to smile back at him.

"Well… keep doing it and you might live to see forty. Okay, thirty six."

"Not giving me that much credit regardless, huh?"

Danny snugs the cock ring around his cock and balls, pleased with how it makes his foreskin stay pulled back and the veins pop out on his dick. Seriously, best ten dollars Danny ever spent.

"Nope."

There's always this moment of beautiful clarity before Danny enters Steve; they never look down, always at each other's eyes, seeking trust, fulfillment, _devotion._ It's not hard to figure each other out at that point in time, completely and totally honest with each other. It's Danny's favorite part of sex with Steve, able to get just a glimpse at this beautiful, troubled man and maybe, just maybe, find out a little bit more about how to help him.

Steve pulls him down once Danny's halfway in and his on his way to bottoming out, breathing hard against his mouth. A nominal effort at a kiss is made, Steve trying to make his body accommodate to Danny's thicker than normal cock (which is already thick) and Danny making a hard try to not push too hard and too fast.

"Howzit, Danno?" Steve mumbles, the head of Danny's cock right against his sweet spot.

"Really fucking good, babe, like always." Danny loves that there's an _always_ , those two syllables warming him from the inside out.

They stopped using condoms about the same time Danny got his piercing so they thought they'd be used by now to the bare feeling of each other; Danny's certainly not, Steve alive and _hot_ around him, almost vice-like in how they fit together. Steve swears up and down that he can feel Danny's piercing inside him, hitting spots that for the longest time Steve didn't even know he had.

"Don't wanna move." Danny's face is hidden in Steve's neck, enjoying himself immensely just being inside his partner's body.

"Don't have to," Steve assures him. "Don't have anywhere to be."

"Wonderful thing, isn't it?" Danny tilts his head up and kisses Steve on the mouth, his head cradled in his hands.

Steve looks up with adoration and affection once Danny breaks the kiss, their foreheads but an inch apart. He reaches down, feels himself where Danny's filling him. Danny bites his lip when Steve tugs at his balls, pushed up and kept from being pulled tight by the cock ring.

"They're loose today," Steve observes, rolling each one between his thumb and forefinger. "Too bad they're down there and not up here."

Danny just nods, entirely unsure as to why he's doing so; mostly he wants Steve to keep playing with the family jewels. "Uh huh."

Steve rolls his eyes. "Maybe we should get moving now."

Danny nods again.

It takes another five minutes, making out like desperate teenagers, and more lube before Danny can really start to fulfill Steve's request. (That and he can feel his body starting to turn against him, because seriously, _fuck drug smugglers_.) Neither of them really has any particular way in mind how they get there, just to get there; so Danny goes slow and easy, sitting back on his haunches, cock buried deep in Steve. He never pulls out more than halfway, grinds and rolls his hips as best he can. He's far more interested in watching Steve's face, holding eye contact along with his hands (save for his right, which is doing a hell of a job of jerking Steve in time with each beautifully slow thrust.)

Steve's beautiful like this, his body broken out in a light sheen of sweat, his cock so hard that his circumcision scar stays a deep flush of pink; Danny can count every single ab every time he breathes in, his fingers tightening with Danny's every time he pushes back in. Steve arches his back a little too, trying to meet him halfway but they're both too lust-hazy to move that much, mouths open, panting, occasionally bending for a kiss.

They aren't silent during sex, it's just that they don't have to say what they feel to understand.

Danny stops for a second, picking up the lube. He snicks the cap open, then leans down for a kiss.

"Getting awfully tight down there, Commander."

Steve moans a reply as Danny drizzles more Astroglide over his dick. "Ten more seconds of this and it's gonna be a hell of a mess, Danno."

"Yeah?" Without missing a beat, Danny licks into Steve's mouth as he takes his cock in hand, all the way down to the bottom and twisting on the way back up, thumb rubbing a slow circle over where Steve's frenulum would be. Steve grips Danny's hand so hard that he feels bones squeeze, a blurt of precome drooling out of the slit and then getting all over Danny's knuckles.

"Fuck, babe, that's fucking hot." Danny does it again and starts to fuck Steve, short, shallow thrusts that hit Steve's prostate.

"Danno, gonna-" Steve comes, three spurts of jizz one right after the other and they all land somewhere between Steve's forehead and navel, the rest emptying out on his stomach and Danny's fingers. It takes Danny by surprise, mouth hanging open at the sight and sound of Steve climaxing so beautifully. He can't imagine his own o-face is quite as expressive – but watching Steve's enough to send him over the edge too and he feels the sweat roll down his back as he finishes deep in his boyfriend's ass.

Good fucking afternoon, indeed.

Normally Steve's quick to start scooping up come and then bringing Danny in to help but today he lies there, his whole body quivering as he lets the endorphins stop coursing so quickly. Danny kisses his arm, starting at the elbow and moving up his bicep until he's up to his neck, then licks a slow line before he's reached Steve's mouth again. He catches the drop of come off of Steve's right cheek and it's just enough to make Steve perk back up, putting his arms around Danny and holding him tight while they check and re-check to make sure they're both still in one piece.

"Don't want me to spit it back in your mouth today, babe?" Danny's only half teasing. Steve grins, nothing but malicious intent in that doofy expression, finding the hand that got him off and looking positively filthy as he licks the come off of Danny's knuckles.

"That ought to do it," he says, smacking his lips.

Danny doesn't really get Steve's fascination with spunk but hell if he's going to question it – he stopped counting after thirty the number of times Steve had walked into Five-O headquarters wiping his mouth from where he'd given Danny road head, or back alley head, or just because I fucking can head. Thank God there's not camera in their car, because they've committed enough sins in it that they could sell the video feed and retire early.

Steve does kiss it back to Danny, tongues making sticking trails of white as they pull apart and then come back together, eyes halfway open so that they can watch the other's expression. It's almost – _almost_ – enough to get Danny hard again but between the painkillers and the scintillating sex he's scraped the last reserves of his energy from the barrel, and Steve looks like he's about there with him.

"You're not falling asleep inside me again," Danny purrs, finished doing things with his come that honestly should never be done in polite society.

"Hey, I gave you fair warning last time – just use your big, Rambo-esque arms to roll me off." Danny yawns, feeling the sunshine over his back through the half open curtains.

"No, get off." Danny pushes Steve's chest and slides out of him – along with _a lot_ of come and lube. It makes a big, wet puddle on the sheet but that's just an occupational hazard by this point. The puddle expands when Danny gets the cock ring off and the last few drips of come make their way to the bed.

Steve looks down between their bodies, smiling to himself. "You win this time, babe."

Danny chuckles and then reaches for his discarded towel. "I don't think it's a contest – but if you want to give it a couple days and then jack off into a measuring cup, we'll see."

The look that Steve gives him is frightening because it sounds exactly like something he'd agree to.

"…I wasn't serious."

"Don't knock the idea Danno, sounds like fun if you ask me."

"Steven, we use those cups to make things. More specifically, things like the birthday cake for my daughter, and soon. I couldn't use the same one that Danno and Uncle Steve jacked off into to see who made more."

"Start a shopping list – measuring cup for semen measurement." Steve rolls onto his back, complete and total ease brightening his face as Danny cleans him up with the towel.

"The longer I live with you the less and less surprised I become at hearing stuff like that. You're a filthy perv, McGarrett."

"And you amplify my perviness by a factor of a million, Danno, get used to it." The second Danny's finished Steve takes the towel from his hands and snuggles Danny to his body.

"I know I say this a lot, but it's a _really_ good thing I love you." Danny yawns again, tucking himself a little further up under Steve's arm.

"I love you too, babe." Steve kisses Danny's temple and the last thing they feel before they drift off to sleep is the bright Hawaii sun warming their toes.

 _Ridiculous._

It's a an extremely versatile adjective at this moment in time, and probably will continue to be for at least the next eight to sixty hours, just depending on how long they're going to be working.

Danny feels it, looks it, and is starting to think that it's the best possible word to describe Steve McGarrett.

The last bits of intel for the Prince Mark case had finally fallen through – and Steve had been lost in a trance of planning since they day before yesterday. That morning they'd driven separately to work and not forty five minutes into the day had Steve disappeared. Danny's fine on his own, just… Steve's not one to not let someone know before he disappears. Hell, he hadn't even told Danny. Of course, he could plug into his GPS tracker or use the HPD scanner to track him down – but it doesn't feel right to do.

Of course, Steve had left a very helpful note on Danny's desk in the two minutes Danny hadn't been in there:

 _Case stuff – be ready tonight at nine – we move at half past – be at the club_

 _Dress to impress, babe_

Danny doesn't mind undercover work; as a detective, it's standard stuff. He's just never gone undercover at a seedy gay nightclub, and added to the mix is a) probably a lot of naked or close to naked men, which is a distraction, b) Steve undercover as well and "dress to impress" likely means further frustration and c) it's a fucking nightclub and Danny has never in his life been a club type of guy. Too noisy, too dark, and way too crowded. He prefers quiet places like restaurants, or his own damn living room.

So yes, this whole situation is ridiculous and Danny's going to let Steve know it as soon as he gets the chance.

Danny doesn't own "sexy" clothing, per se – he's not had any need for it and Steve's not the type of guy to ask him to wear clothes he's just going to remove a short time later. He's man enough to admit that he thinks he looks decent in most anything, so he opts for a black button down where if he rolls the sleeves up his forearms look _really_ nice and gray pants that kind of hug his ass – the squats he'd been diligent about doing the last few months are paying off nicely.

His outfit makes it hard to conceal a firearm so he tucks a mini-pistol at the small of his back and handcuffs in his back pocket. He's just hoping that the place is dark enough to conceal their outline and if push comes to shove, he can tell someone they're the sexy kind of handcuffs; bless Steve for not having that kink anyway. Danny doesn't enjoy holding people down if he doesn't have to.

Double checking that he smells like he belongs in a night club, he scoops up his keys and phone, shooting a message to Steve.

 _On my way – are we hot?_

His phone pings as soon as he's got his seatbelt hooked.

 _We're a go – I'm already inside and waiting. Just say I'm with McGarrett at the door._

Danny puts his phone in his pocket and calls up the mental image of the map he'd memorized earlier. It's a ways there, clear on the other side of the city from Five-O headquarters. The longer he rides, the more he turns over the information he's read up on in his head. Brodsky has connections with several European gangs, two of which have been active in Hawaii in the last five years. Mostly kidnappers and extortionists, the perfect sort of thug to distribute European jailbait around and promise them dreams that won't actually come true.

It makes Danny feel just a little sick to his stomach, because those are somebody's kids and God knows what their families must think when they get a death notice or are departed back to the former Soviet Bloc, drug addicted or diseased. Danny hates human trafficking, absolutely _hates_ it.

Steve's Silverado is near the middle of the lot and Danny pulls in next to it, feeling the sweat roll down his back and into the waistband of his too-tight briefs. Why the hell he chose to wear them is beyond his ability to answer right now, as they're doing a magnificent job of cutting off circulation to a lot of important parts of his body.

Approaching the door, he can feel lots of hungry eyes on him, and while he knows he should be checking out the surroundings more diligently he can't quiet seem to break his impending sense of doom; on top of which he totally has an erection right now, and it's making it unnecessarily difficult to walk. He can't be blamed for that, honestly, because hello – _naked guys._

It's like he's twelve again and finding out that yes indeed, sausage parties turn him on as much as tight sweater on a comely lady does.

The bouncer – a huge, tattooed, Asian guy who could be Chin's hot older brother – smiles at him way too sweetly to feel threatening as he finally makes it to the door.

"I'm uh…." Danny clears his throat, feeling the need to make his voice deeper as he speaks. "I'm with McGarrett."

The bouncer looks down at a tablet that he'd suddenly produced from nowhere. "VIP lounge – you're being entertained by Brodsky himself." The creepy, worshipful tone in the way the bouncer says _himself_ doesn't exactly leave Danny with the most comfortable feeling in the world; it makes him sound like he's brainwashed his employees.

Just another checkmark on the list of positively fantastic things that this evening keeps turning up.

Danny swallows and tries to look charming as he's waved inside past the long line that's nearly wrapped around the building; Steve's obviously laid careful groundwork, as Danny sincerely doubts the guy would have just let him in without knowledge beforehand.

Inside is as lurid and loud as Danny imagined it to be; the bartender's shirtless, the waiters are all wearing positively skimpy shorts and things that barely pass as tank tops, and Danny's not seen this many abdominal muscles since the whole force back in Jersey had to do a mass physical. His heartbeat quickens and his blood rushes a little further south, one of the hosts leading him to a back room through, of all things, a beaded curtain. Danny pointedly doesn't stare at the guy's ass, because if he did the already sinful thoughts running around in his head would just make his stomach hurt even more.

"Mr. Brodsky is waiting for you." The host smiles, all of twenty three years old and his Czech accent making Danny's knees quiver. He doesn't even pretend to not check Danny out as he walks away, licking his lips at his ill-concealed erection.

He's going to kill Steve, or fuck him – he isn't sure which first.

Danny nods his head in thanks, then ducks in the doorway – and is face with another door. He knocks, and it's immediately opened, whomever did so remaining unseen as he steps through.

It's even more garish here than in the main part of the club.

There are huge, soft couches all around, most of them occupied, and every occupant – all male, all engaged in some form of groping or sucking or other manner of things that people should only do in the privacy of their own homes. Danny swallows, sees flashes of ass and skin as he scans the room and finally, _finally_ his eyes land on Steve.

Danny feels sorry for using the word ridiculous already – because Steve wins that prize, hands down.

He's dressed in a black tank top that's tight even by Steve standards, and he's wearing goddamn Daisy Dukes. Danny has to stifle the urge to gape, because he's never seen this much leg outside their home – and even then only when he's naked. The shoes are the only half-normal thing, sneakers that manage to be skanky even though by standard definition, a sneaker is the least sexy shoe ever invented.

It's not until Steve meets Danny's gaze that he realizes that Steve fucking McGarrett looks goddamn sexy as hell with a little black eyeliner smudged on, and Danny's honestly not sure how he feels about it.

Steve smiles, and then stands. "There he is," Danny manages to catch.

Danny doesn't even register that there's someone else on the couch with Steve until he's five feet away – it's Max Brodsky, looking even more seductive up close. He's honestly not dressed that… porny, Danny tries, just looks suave and confident in clothes not dissimilar from his own.

"Max, this is Danny – my business partner." Steve sticks out his hand and Danny shakes it, making himself not look confused as he grips Steve's hand. He doesn't miss the slight press of fingertips against his wrist and the little smile Steve gives him; he's got this under control, obviously, and that much at least makes Danny feel slightly less weird.

"So, Danny – may I call you Danny? – your friend here tells me that you've got quite an interesting business model." Max Brodsky has a perfectly normal, non-descript American accent. He could be from anywhere from Maine to California. It's clashingly at odds with the uber-chic Eastern Euro vibe he's built his venue around. Almost a shame to put the guy away for thirty to life.

"It was all Danny's idea – I'm just the salesman." Steve nudges Danny good naturedly, scooting aside for Danny to sit down. Danny eyes Steve's bulge for half a second before he tears his gaze away.

"Damn right it was," Danny says with confidence he doesn't actually feel. "Been trying to push this idea to McGarrett here for a while." Danny remembers the vague instructions Steve had left in the dossier – they're supposed to talk up another branch of Max's club that caters explicitly to military and law enforcement types who maybe appreciate discretion along with banging dudes.

Danny had _maybe_ laughed just a little bit.

Fine – a lot – Steve's fictional scenarios are hilarious at times, alright?

Max leans back, stretching his arms above his head. Danny catches a glimpse of washboard abs and fuck…

 _Lace._

Danny suddenly loses his train of thought, immediately looking down at his hands. He feels incredibly silly, considering that he's kind of blowing it. So much for roleplaying but hell if he's not entirely fixated on the idea of this guy in panties.

Steve's thighs just being – there – doesn't help either.

"Danny, why don't you bring us a drink?" Steve looks at him, the amusement at his fluster and frustration bright in his eyes.

"There's a bar over there." Max gestures with a well-manicured hand, then places it behind his head. That sliver of tanned skin and white lace is there, right where everyone who care to look can see it. Danny swallows his pride and tries to will his hard-on away, going to the bar and pouring out three measures of bourbon, the glasses clinking musically as he picks them up.

They nearly hit the floor when he turns back around and sees Max pressed up to Steve's side, rubbing one massive bicep and practically jerking off his knee. Steve smiles, laughs at something that Max whispers. Danny feels jealousy climb his spine like an ugly weed, pulling him right into action mode.

As he approaches, he's clutching their drinks so hard that the glasses are threatening to break and shit, Steve's got Max's hands in his. Danny clears his throat, very, very loudly, all thoughts of lace and arousal gone – now he's just mad.

Max looks back at Danny, an oily smirk on his face. "Care to join us?"

One moment he's looking like the cat that ate the canary, doing his best to seduce Danny with nothing but a look and a wiggle of his ass. The next he's screaming in pain, and Danny has to take a second to wonder what exactly just happened.

"Eugene Mathers, you're under arrest for human trafficking and intent to prostitute." Steve's got three of his fingers bent back so far that they have to be broken – which explains why he screamed. Danny also notices several of the other folks in the room feeling for weapons, and enough of them flash badges that Danny knows it's not a trap.

Steve looks at Danny, blowing him a kiss. "Hey babe?"

"Yeah?"

"Come here a second." Steve sits up, keeping Brodsky in place without a whole lot of effort. Steve cranes his neck, smiling once Danny's within easy hearing distance.

"Two things – first, reach into his pants there and get his gun. Secondly…"

"Book 'em, Danno." Danny's already digging for his cuffs and is probably going to enjoy putting them on this guy far too much.

Steve grins and it makes his whole face light up.

"This why I love you."

It takes a while to clear the place out.

Once they'd trotted Max out the front door to a waiting (unmarked) car it hadn't taken long for the rest of his ring to step forward; tough these guys ain't, Danny decides. Steve manages to look completely and totally in charge even in those absurd shorts, not a single person he talks to batting an eye. Either they're extremely good at their jobs or have seen the get up already, thus being inoculated.

Danny's still not used to seeing this much of his partner outdoors.

He's leaning against the Camaro, already drawing up an outline for his report when Steve walks over, looking extremely tired but happy with the relief of a job well done.

"So," Steve says. "What do you say to a drink, maybe some dinner?"

Danny looks up and tosses his pad and paper in the open window of the car. "Sure – but first…" Danny steps back so that he can gesture at all of Steve's body. "What in the name of all things holy is this?"

Steve shrugs, that same unapologetic look on his face that Danny feels like he's seeing far too often these days. "I wanted to get his attention. It worked, didn't it?"

"Yeah but…" Danny walks over to him, hands on his hips as he looks at Steve's eyes a little more closely. "The eyeliner?"

"That? Because I wanted to. Don't much care for it." Steve pulls a rag out of his pocket and wipes his face, the sweat beaded on much of his skin. "What do you think?"

Danny looks around to make sure no one's paying that close of attention to them, then grabs Steve's hand. He places it on his crotch, letting him feel his erection that sprang back up as soon as Steve was within touching distance. Steve squeezes, his eyes hooding and Danny thinks he's going to kiss him.

"Question asked, question answered." Steve rubs him, and suddenly the humidity feels entirely too cloying.

"Say, Steve – are we about done here?" Danny tries to make himself sound collected but adrenaline and arousal have him so riled up that he's kind of stopped caring.

Steve nods. "Give me two more minutes and then we can go home and you can have your filthy ways with me."

Danny grins, stealing a quick peck before he lets Steve go.

"Just keep that on a little longer – I want to take a picture."

The only normal part of Steve's outfit, as it turns out, is his underwear – perfectly reasonable boxer briefs.

Danny still takes them off with his teeth anyway.

There's a lot of agonizing done over the next couple weeks.

Well, Danny agonizes. Over the years he's gotten to be very good at agonizing, especially in connection with the people he cares about. Granted that isn't a lot of people in the world but the ones he does show concern for, well… it runs deep, and Steve's very close to the top of the list. The trouble is that Steve is retroactively the cause of his agonizing, and even then it's not really. It's the fictional scenario that Danny's concocted for himself in which Steve does some very kinky things and is actually okay with it and doesn't think that Danny's some sort of weird freak.

Sure Steve is the one who like come swapping and being bent up like a pretzel when he gets fucked but that's fairly within the acceptable range of things that Danny has zero problem participating in – but what he wants is… well, Steve, as much of a bottom he is, is a man's man, and that's super. Really.

Neither of them feel threatened in their masculinity in being a couple but still – this is still gonna take a hell of a lot more courage than Danny actually feels.

See, he remembers quite vividly what happened when they busted Brodsky; more specifically, he remembers the goddamn lacey white panties the guy was wearing and how ridiculously wonderful they looked on him. He also may have watched a couple of the guy's films too, and jerked off and came so hard his eyes crossed. Steve doesn't need to know that though; they're both grown men, and they can spend their special alone time exactly as they see fit.

It's a Friday, finally, blissful Friday, and so far not a single thing has happened to disturb the peace. Danny's in his office, fine tuning some reports that have been piling up, mind wandering freely between how to spell "ballistic" and just how fucking _tanned_ Steve's been lately. Seriously he's gotten a shade darker in the last three days and Danny has found that come looks really fantastic on those golden-browned abs of his. Hell he verified it for the fourth time this morning shortly after waking up.

White. Semen is white. And so are thongs and boyshorts and hip huggers and yes, Danny has a fucking problem and it's that he wants to see his hunky, strapping boyfriend in women's underwear.

Danny growls and slams his fist on the table, causing a couple pens to roll to the floor and the thud to echo throughout the main part of Five-O central command.

"Get a fucking hold of yourself," he mutters, smoothing back his hair for the fiftieth time that day and ignoring the raging hard on that seems to be a constant part of life these days.

"Danny?" Steve's outside his door, a sheaf of folders clutched in his hand. He's not wearing his gun belt, just his badge on his left hip and a curious, slightly worried expression. He looks completely different from earlier that day when he'd pulled Danny deep into his embrace and pretended to ignore that even when waking Danny's been fidgety as hell.

Danny clears his throat, then steeples his fingers against his forehead. "I know that isn't going to sound good because it never, ever bodes well when someone says this but-"

"We need to talk?" Steve finishes entering Danny's office and sits down on the end of the couch. It creaks slightly under his weight as he sprawls and makes himself comfortable.

Danny sighs, deciding that there's not much shame left to be had just because he's got a boner right now. He shifts himself so that he can at least walk the six steps to his couch, sitting down next to Steve and keeping his body turned towards him.

Steve puts his arm up on the back of the couch, his fingertips just barely touching the back of Danny's head. "This is gonna hurt, isn't it?"

Danny shrugs, his eyes moving slowly over those beautiful broad shoulders and his three day scruff, resting power coiled in his long limbs. Danny decides that he can take just a little bit of liberty and rests his hand on Steve's thigh, right above the knee. "I don't know, really. Just… this thing it's… kind of hard to say, you know? Like I don't think it's bad so much as weird and probably a little messed up, considering why the hell I'm even considering it in the first place."

Steve nods, taking his arm down off the back of the couch and covering Danny's hand with his own. "I can handle weird."

Danny closes his eyes, opens them again and double checks to make sure that they are truly alone for the moment. "Remember the Brodsky case?"

"Considering that was literally two weeks ago, I'd hope so. Not losing my short term memory _quite_ yet Danno." Steve grins a little, and maybe some of the lead in Danny's stomach starts to dissipate.

"Anyway – there's, uh, one detail in particular." Danny licks his lips, finding that they're uncomfortably dry. "And I don't really know how to… elaborate."

"This is kind of fun, Danno – watching you trip over your own words. Nice change from the normal thousand miles a second." Steve winks at him and Danny shoves him, watching his boyfriend topple over just a little.

"Don't make fun of me, McGarrett, I know where you sleep at night." Danny frowns, letting Steve sit back up. "May I finish?"

"You're the one who keeps interrupting yourself, babe." Steve kisses Danny on the cheek and waits, making that face Danny's come to interpret as "I know what you want but I'm waiting for you to say it first."

"Did you see what he was wearing, right before we cuffed him?"

Steve shrugs. "Don't recall anything particularly remarkable, honestly."

"Not his shirt or anything – his underwear." Danny gets quieter the longer the sentence goes on and his cheeks are burning by the time he's finished.

Steve thinks for a moment, looking at Danny's face as he turns that evening's events over in his mind. Danny's ready to say it out loud of course but if Steve can devise it before him, well… even better.

Danny's breath quickens as Steve figures it out, getting a darkly knowing look in his eyes.

"Think he was wearing panties. Lacey white ones."

"Yeah."

"And that's what's had you so hung up for the last two weeks? An ex-porn star and convicted felon's choice of underwear?'

Danny nearly swallow his own tongue. "No! I mean… no. It's not him, really. Guy's a creep."

Steve scoots down a little closer to Danny's level, practically nose to nose with him. "Then what is it?"

Danny kind of hates he's not made out a will yet because he's sure the next few words that come out of his mouth will literally kill him. "I want…"

"Me?"

"Yeah. I want to see what you look like in lacey, white panties." Danny feels his stomach lurch and the world start to shift. He's faced down hundreds of hardened criminals and survived God knows what kind of shit to make it this far and confessing to his understanding, probably-not-as-beat-up-as-him over this partner that he wants him to put on frilly underthings is about to send him to his grave.

Steve, all things considered, doesn't actually look shocked – just amused. "And why did it take this long for you to say something?"

"Because Steve, it's weird! It's really fucking weird that you find out a kink at a goddamn crime scene!" Danny gets up and starts to pace, gesticulating from the elbows down.

"This is not a sign of someone who is mentally stable and that… that can't be good, alright? Especially when it's you, with your macho he-man everything and…" Danny runs out of steam, far too many words trying to come out and not enough know how to put them so that they don't make Steve laugh at him.

Steve gets up, takes just one boot-heavy step over to where Danny's frozen himself in place and puts his arms around him. "Danno, calm down."

"I am calm."

"No, you're not, because I can feel your heart beating right through your shirt."

Danny inhales, eyes closing as he rests his head against Steve's strangely pillow soft right shoulder. "I'm sorry – but you did ask."

Steve kisses his forehead and rubs Danny's back, not speaking again until he's positive that Danny's not going to vibrate himself to death. "One, you don't have to be sorry."

"I don't?"

Steve shakes his head. "Not at all. Two, that's a perfectly okay, healthy fantasy to have. Some of my buddies back in the Navy-"

"Steve, stop. I'm frustrated enough as it is and imagining the country's finest in thongs isn't going to help."

"Far enough. Three, if you asked me to wear a leather bustier and combat boots to bed with you, I'd fucking do it. That's what normal, healthy people in relationships do, babe, is communicate their desires. It's just the people who suck at it that end up fucked up and hurt."

"Would you wear a bustier and combat boots for me?"

"If you asked nicely – but from experience, boots in the bed just leads to painful bruises and dirt – everywhere." Steve puts his fingers under Danny's chin and lifts his face up. "I'm open to a lot of things, Danny, and since we're not exactly new to this anymore…"

"I can feel free to spill my kinky guts to you whenever porn can't take care of it?" Danny kisses his palm and gets his hands on the sides of Steve's face.

"Just not on the clock, because our budget for ruined office furniture isn't that great and if you ruin a solid oak desk then we're all in trouble." Steve smiles and tries to kiss Danny on the mouth, only to have Danny duck away.

"You aren't supposed to look this enthusiastic." Danny stops dodging and finally gives Steve a kiss, two seconds of tongue enough to start his heart racing again.

"About what? Wearing panties for you?" Steve backs him towards the desk, using his height to trap Danny between he and it.

"Exactly."

"Sorry Danno – but you're out of luck on that one. Gonna do it with a goddamn smile the whole time." This time Danny gets four seconds of tongue and Steve's fingers carding through his hair.

"You're trying really hard to get us in trouble, aren't you?"

Steve shrugs, talking against Danny's mouth. "Chin and Kono are downstairs for the afternoon – just us right now."

"That doesn't mean a damn thing and you know it." Danny kisses Steve again, enjoying the little wet sound their lips make as they touch and then pull away.

"After work, you and I are going on a mission. It's mandatory you attend."

"Will it be worth my while, Commander?"

Steve unzips Danny's trousers and slips a hand inside, rubbing his boyfriend's bulge.

"Oh, almost _certainly_."

Danny somehow manages to lose four hours in a hazy blur of the end of their time on duty, Steve taking him by the hand and dragging him out as soon as the clock strikes their last second, and then being whisked off to a very upscale, very smutty boutique that Danny's never heard of before but Steve acts like he's a regular customer.

He remembers _a lot_ of lace, a perky, entirely too helpful sales girl, and Steve disappearing into a dressing room with a rack full of barely there underthings specifically designed for guys, leaving Danny to soak up the atmosphere of the store and maybe buy some warming massage oil that doubles as lube. It's pricey but hell if Steve isn't worth it; he really wasn't expecting this particular fantasy to be fulfilled today but he can definitely live with it, if the sly, pleasing look on Steve's face is anything to go by.

Danny also suspects the timeframe in which Steve lost all traces of shame is actually much earlier than he first suspected.

Steve had come out of the dressing room looking perfectly normal, a bag clutched tight and instructions for Danny to "wait here" while he went and paid for it, plucking the massage oil out of his hands; Danny hadn't actually seen what he'd chosen, and he's going to gladly let Steve build the suspense as long as possible. Danny certainly isn't going to jump ship waiting.

As soon as they'd gotten home Steve had bolted for the stairs, telling Danny to heat up the leftover Chinese and save him some for later. Danny had listened to the shower run for a long, long while, half-interested in his dinner.

"The hell are you onto, McGarrett?" Danny looks at the ceiling, imagining Steve's naked body and all of the water cascading it. He thinks about going and rubbing one out real quick so that the show isn't over early but decides against it, instead showering in the guest bathroom and making sure every inch of him is squeaky clean; it's not fair to not make himself ready for Steve since Steve's already indulged him this far.

Danny considers shaving but forgoes it, instead leaving his face scruff framed and shower-pink, no towel around his waist as he pads to their bedroom. He hesitates, pushing the door open just wide enough to call out to Steve.

"Can I come in?" He raises his voice a little, since he can still hear the shower running.

"Yeah – just a couple more minutes babe." The water shuts off and Danny's tempted to go and peek at Steve but they have to keep the suspense building so Danny goes and lays in Steve's spot on the bed, letting his body relax into the big, Steve shaped groove.

"Take all the time you need, Steve, I'm not going anywhere." Danny lays with his hands folded on his chest, deliberately not touching himself; he'd cleaned his piercing thoroughly and it had wound up getting him hard to the point of throbbing and willing it back down had taken a lot of effort. Better to let Steve make that happen anyway.

Danny can see Steve's shadow moving, going back and forth from the shower to the sink, never holding still for very long. He knows Steve's a fidgety sort when performing his ablutions but this is way more movement than normal – at least so far as he can see.

"Hey Danno?" Steve's voice breaks his concentration on watching his shadow.

"Yeah?"

"I may have went a little overboard and I need you to promise not to laugh, okay?" Steve sounds genuinely nervous and it makes Danny's heart sore for him. He doesn't generally laugh at Steve in matters of an intimate nature and he's not about to start now.

"Cross my heart and hope to die, babe." Danny sits up a little, hearing the handle on the door jiggle as Steve rests his hands on it.

"I'm coming out now." Danny hears the long inhale, twice as long exhale and then Steve's through.

Danny hasn't had a ton of jaw dropping moments in his life – but this one shoots right to the top of the list.

Steve's… God, Steve's _beautiful_.

Danny starts at his face, cataloguing details as his gaze shifts south. Steve's wearing eyeliner, the same shade as the other night and it makes those big, intensely beautiful pretty eyes pop even more and hell, there's even a little mascara. Danny can't recall ever seeing any make up in the house so this must still be left over from their club bust a couple weeks back. His cheeks are blush-stained, a little foundation and concealer smoothing his face. All the dark hair on his neck and jaws is gone, completely smooth.

Steve takes a step forward, trepidation keeping his body stiff. Danny doesn't look up, just keeps his eyes on Steve's torso – which is completely smooth, all the hair gone. His chest stands out even more with no hair on it, rippling pecs and abs even more ripply than normal. Danny swallows, his interest completely and utterly held.

"Danno?"

"Just a sec babe, not done… not done looking yet." Danny unconsciously gives his dick a squeeze, feeling it harden as soon as he takes his hand away.

The finishing touch – and this is more than a cherry on the parfait – is a pair of low slung white lace panties, struggling for their life to hold onto Steve's narrow hips due to his straining hard on; they're pulled taught enough for Danny to notice that Steve's pubic hair is gone, everything there just as smooth as the rest of him. The contrast of snow white against Steve's tanned skin is positively dazzling. Danny doesn't know why he called this _overboard_ ; Steve looks perfect. Absolutely, completely, perfect.

"For the record – I don't actually wear make up on the regular, so you don't have to uh, worry about that being a thing." Steve's standing at the edge of the bed now, smoothing his hands down his lats and over his hips, making his panties pull that much more tightly as his palms brush over them.

Danny looks up, a smile making it difficult to speak as he beckons Steve forward. "Steven, babe, listen – I'm… god, you look so fucking good right now, you don't have to justify or explain a damn thing. Just… c'mere." Danny pulls Steve to him, hands on his neck and shoulders, not quite landing at the pillows but Danny doesn't fucking care – he's got a Steve to kiss and touch over worrying about whether or not his head is comfortable.

Steve hums into Danny's mouth, his back muscles flexing as Danny's tongue slides in against his, pressing himself further into Danny's body as his fingers cup the swell of his ass. Danny squeezes, gently smacks and then rubs, finding that Steve's shaved his ass as well in the process of readying himself.

"You really did go all out," Danny murmurs, their mouths still pressed together.

"Eh, you're worth it. Shaving your ass is a bitch though." Steve ruts his hips against Danny's, lace and silk making sensation race up Danny's spine like electricity.

"I'll take your word for it," Danny moans, Steve's mouth teasing his earlobe. He's definitely hard now, precome sticking them together between their bellies.

Steve pulls away, his makeup smudged just a little from necking with Danny. He looks even prettier now and Danny feels his breath quicken. "I hope you broke that passionate embrace for a reason, McGarrett."

Steve snorts a laugh and turns Danny over onto his belly. "Say passionate embrace again and I may just sign you up to write Harlequin romance novels." Steve reaches for the nightstand where he's placed the massage oil. "But yeah, I did do that for a reason."

"And what reasons are those?"

"Firstly, I'm going to give you a massage. Second, I'm going to blow you and get your cock nice and wet."

Danny growls agreeably, turning his head to look back at Steve. "And third?"

"I'm going to ride you until you're cross eyed. Sound like a plan?"

"Definitely." Danny gets another kiss before Steve pushes him back down, keeping him secure by sitting on his thighs. Danny makes himself comfortable, pulling a pillow to him and resting his chin on it. He's braced for the oil to be cold but Steve takes a great deal of care in warming it in his hands, and when it touches Danny's back he's surprised to find that it's a little on the hot sign.

Steve notices the little hiss of breath Danny takes in and stops rubbing it in. "You okay?"

"Never better."

Steve leans down and kisses the back of his head, making Danny shiver.

"Good."

Steve's torturously good at massages (Danny likes to think he's decent at it but Steve's got the upper hand here, hands down) and Danny's beyond thankful for that more now than ever. He glides up and down his back, playing his spine like a virtuoso, humming contentedly to himself. Danny feels like he should be saying something but Steve's fingers have robbed him of any and all faculties to form coherent thought.

"This stuff is _hot_ ," Steve comments, close to the end of unknotting Danny's lumbar muscles. "And it's lube too?"

Danny slurs something unintelligible and Steve giggles.

"Right." Steve wipes his hands on Danny's triceps and turns him over. "Let's see if I can make you even more tongue tied." Steve kisses him, swiping his tongue once against Danny's before he's gone again, kissing his way down the center line of Danny's body.

"Mean," Danny rumbles, hands reaching for Steve's head.

Steve bats them away, mouth hovering over Danny's leaking cock. "Let me, Danno."

Danny doesn't have it in him to fight right now, and lets Steve do as he wants.

Danny would like to put them on even ground so far as giving head goes but in terms of who receives more, it's definitely him; Steve just likes to have a dick in his mouth, and Danny's not going to break him of that particular trait. Steve's ridiculously enthusiastic, always wet and messy, never halfhearted about going down on him. A dark part of Danny wants to see Steve suck off a whole room full of able-bodied men but he keeps it to himself, especially since Steve is fiercely monogamous and doesn't even like it when people hit on Danny. It's cute, a little mortifying, and above all heart-warming; Danny just fears for the folks who make passes at him because Steve knows how to shoot _a lot_ of different guns.

Steve pulls Danny's foreskin all the way down, his dick piercing a shiny glint against the blood-red shade of his cock. He flicks it with the end of his tongue, holding the shaft steady with his left hand while his right pulls and cups Danny's balls. Danny has to bite his tongue to stop himself from coming when he makes eye contact with Steve, mascara and eyeliner enhanced eyes bordering on too much. The way Steve's got his back arched so that Danny sees his ass filling out those panties so nicely certainly doesn't aid the situation, either.

Danny's whole body tenses as Steve swallows him, jaw stretched around his ample girth to the point of Steve having to unhinge his haw. He doesn't stop until his nose is buried in the curl of Danny's dark blonde pubic hair. Danny cries out, involuntarily bucking his hips into Steve's mouth; Steve doesn't react, just grunts and puts holds Danny down, coming halfway up and making sure Danny can see the spit connecting Steve's lips to his body. It's delightfully pornographic, and Danny moans, Steve's tongue swirling around his head and jerking him off at the same time.

"Don't ever let me make you unreasonably mad," Danny grunts. Steve just looks back up at him and smiles, bobbing his head once before he closes his eyes and sets to work, edging Danny with his mouth, keeping him off guard as he alternates between his balls, back up, sucks right on his piercing, then swallows him whole again, over and over until Danny finally has to push Steve off, his dick absolutely throbbing. Steve watches as a single drop of come rolls down the head and into Danny's pubes, a testament to just how dangerously close to the edge Danny is right now.

"Want to stop for a minute?" Steve sits back on his haunches, rubbing Danny's legs and trying to catch his own breath; blowing Danny like that isn't the easiest task in the world.

Not that he doesn't enjoy it, of course.

"You…" Danny points at him, keeping his eyes closed because if he so much as looks at Steve right now he _will_ come. "You are going to be the death of me. I don't know if that's gonna be due to a heart attack from sex or you getting me shot as we blow up a building but I'm almost certain your ugly mug is going to be the last thing I see."

Steve gets on all fours over Danny's body, a couple inches between them as he lays a gentle kiss to Danny's lips. "I can live with that."

"You aren't supposed to that comfortable with that statement."

"Hey, I'm just as likely to go with you – at least it'll be doing what I love." Steve nips at Danny's jaw, waiting for him to get the pun. He's already smiling to himself, blaming the overload of serotonin in Danny's system for his delayed reaction.

"Motherfucker…" Danny whispers, then grabs Steve's head and brings him back, crashing them in a kiss. Steve's mascara has run a little where his eyes watered from deep throating Danny; it's uncomfortably hot how well the messy whore aesthetic works on Steve.

"Believe there was some mention of riding?" Danny breaks the kiss and reaches for the regular lube; he's not feeling ambitious enough to day to put that liquid fire on his dick – or in Steve's hole.

Steve nods, reaching behind himself to stroke Danny's cock. "There was. Want me to keep these on?" Steve puts Danny's hand on his hip, letting him feel the silky-smooth material. Danny hasn't forgotten about them, not one bit.

"I'm offended that you have to ask." Danny's torn between looking at Steve's face and the rest of him, having to lean back even further when Steve reaches for Danny's cock ring; he notices then that Steve did leave his armpits unshaven and that just fucks with Danny's brain even further. To say that his partner is an embarrassment of muscly riches is an understatement of the grandest order.

"Just making sure babe." Steve moves so that Danny can sit up, propped against the headboard. Danny puts his cock ring on while Steve puts lube on both of them, pulling his panties aside.

"After we're done, I want to take some pictures of you, if that's alright. I swear my intentions for them will only be the filthy and noble kind." Danny goes a little cross eyed as he snugs the ring into place, its progress made easier by the slick of lube Steve's so generously poured on him.

"I know." Steve kisses Danny nonchalantly, taking a hold of Danny's cock and sinking down on it. Danny buries his face in his neck as Steve pushes himself down, his other hand braced against the headboard so as to not topple and overwhelm Danny. It's not often they do it like this but tonight it's the only way that feels _right,_ both wanting to hold each other so that maybe they don't fly apart before the time is right.

Danny waits until as much of his dick as humanly possible is inside Steve before he tries to speak again, the angle of their bodies making for a very tight fit. "You're a champ, Steve, really."

"I try, babe, I really do." Steve squeezes his ass around Danny's cock and Danny yelps, a foregone conclusion that he's completely at Steve's mercy right now.

Danny can definitely live with that.

It's a wonder Steve doesn't break the bed – or Danny , for that matter – what with how he goes crazy riding Danny's cock. He makes maximum use of the limited space they've given themselves, one hand on Danny's shoulder, the other against the headboard, trading off between Danny slamming up into him and Steve going for the gold, sweat and lube and spit making both of them a mess. They've had crazy sex like this before, and every time it leaves Danny's head spinning and every square inch of his body aching. Steve's just as thorough in sex as he is in everything else.

"Danno…" Steve huffs, his voice a tremble. "Getting close baby." Steve's not had a hand on his cock the whole time, laid up against his hip out of his panties and throbbing to the point of it hurting.

Danny kisses him, murmurs "with me, babe" and grabs a hold of Steve's cock, using his precome to slick it up. He points it at his chest, Steve just barely rocking back and forth on him now.

It's one of the only times he's thankful for being short – and relatively flexible – as Danny leans over and sucks the head of Steve's cock, getting about three seconds before Steve grabs his hair and comes, flooding his mouth full. Danny comes as soon as the second spurt hits the back of his throat, hips canted up so that it goes deep. Steve cries, shaking as Danny finishes him off and makes his vision black out.

Danny uses his last bits of strength and coordination to push Steve backwards, his legs on fire from having Steve's solid weight in his lap for so long. No sooner is he out from under Steve's sweaty hold than he's having his mouth invaded, Steve licking out the taste of his come – that that Danny didn't swallow. Steve holds his head in place as he goes, body spasming when Danny slips two fingers into his still stretched, leaking hole, just as eager to taste as Steve is. He puts his fingers between their mouths, lube and spunk and Steve making him drunk on afterglow.

Steve's make up is ruined by the time they finally give out, Danny blanketing Steve with his body and making them stick together.

"Next time," Danny manages, "we're having normal, not crazy sex."

Steve chuckles and runs his fingers through Danny's hair. "You say that every single time."

"This time I mean it – I can't feel much of anything right now."

"And this is bad… how?"

"What if there's a fire, or a gunman?"

"Here, or in general?"

Danny picks his head up and frowns down at his boyfriend. "It's remarks like that one that make me not want to lay here in a sticky puddle of come and lube."

"Aw, come on – it's fun and you know it."

"Once again, Steven," Danny kisses him because fuck it, if he's going to lay here he might as well be productive, "we really need to reevaluate that definition and all of its associated synonyms for you."

Steve grins, because if it means Danny's going to stick around that much longer, he'll reevaluate to the end of his days.


End file.
